Page 175 of Evermore

“Perhaps it should be,” I countered. “Because the moment we stopped questioning, we started losing.”

I stood, placing my palms flat against the table as I leaned forward. “The Huntress isn’t responsible for the imbalance. We created it ourselves by trying to prevent it. Ezra and I have been locked in this battle for centuries, each of us believing we were protecting the realms in our own way.”

“You’re suggesting the prophecy was false?” Kaelor asked, his voice rumbling like distant thunder.

“I’m suggesting it was bait. And we fucking took it.”

Bellatora laughed. “How convenient that your realization comes right as your precious Huntress sits on the throne of Stirling, her power growing beyond what any mortal should possess and within her final life.”

“Losing all of our power is not convenient,” I shot back. “Take two godsdamn seconds and see reason, because I cannot stand against them by myself.”

Tuck nodded, finally speaking up. “The fluctuations affect all of us. Even in this room, I can feel the ebb and flow. Can’t you?”

A murmur of reluctant agreement passed through the assembly. They couldn’t deny it. Their power surged and falteredin unpredictable waves, evident in the way Serene’s glow dimmed periodically, in how Vesalia’s control of time seemed to skip and stutter around her.

“If the Huntress isn’t the cause,” Vesalia said, her eyes fixing on Paesha, “then what is?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and stared up at the ceiling. “It’s always been the Fates.”

“Blasphemy,” Valen hissed.

“Truth,” Minerva countered, rising to stand beside me. “I’ve felt it for centuries but couldn’t piece it together. My mind… There were gaps in my reasoning that I couldn’t explain.”

She turned to Ezra. “You were right about one thing, Ezarius. The Fates were moving against me. They set everything up. When I took on part of their Wrath, it wasn’t coincidence. They took something from me, a sliver of my Reason, my ability to see patterns clearly.”

The room fell silent as the implications sank in.

“Reason was always their first target,” Minerva continued. “They can see and weave fate, but Reason helps decide which fate to nurture and which to abandon. The power they stole from me forged a path for them to take all power for themselves, and if you’re too blind to see that then you deserve to have everything taken from you.”

Alastor leaned forward, his Remnants suddenly still. “Explain.”

They wouldn’t hear me, but they would hear her. And for the first time since I stepped into the Forgotten, I felt her stand at my side again. I felt her acknowledge me in the best way she knew how. Not by coddling, but with her support.

“If the balance is completely gone, we all lose our power,” Minerva said. “Then only the Fates and mortals will be left with it. And eventually, mortal blood will be too diluted to matter. Who does that leave with power?”

I turned to Ezra. “Tell me, brother. Was it the Fates who showed you the vision of the Huntress breaking the balance? That happenedafterthey were bound to their loom, did it not?”

Ezra’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it.

“The Fates orchestrated every step,” Minerva said, her voice growing stronger. “They wanted to be bound to the loom because it made them appear weakened and trapped. It positioned them as victims rather than orchestrators. Let them work in secret while we underestimated them.”

“They hold the key to the Noctus Gate,” I added, watching comprehension dawn across the gathered gods’ faces. “Why would they need that, if not to lock us away from our own power?”

“If what you’re saying is true,” Serene interjected, “then there’s an obvious solution. We destroy the Huntress, take her power, and use it to restore the balance ourselves.”

“You would regret ever breathing,” I stated flatly, my power flaring around me in a golden aura.

Archer, who’d sat silently at my side, shifted slightly in his chair, eyes locked dead ahead.

“She’s only a demigod, Reverius,” Bellatora sneered. “With stolen power that doesn’t belong to her.”

“She’s…”mine,I wanted to say. Mine to have. Mine to love. Mine to protect. But I couldn’t. Not publicly. Not anymore.

“Mine,” Archer spoke up, his voice steady despite being surrounded by gods, “she’s my wife and queen of Stirling. Protected by ancient laws that even you can’t break, Bellatora.”

Vesalia’s lips curved into a cold smile. “Two things, King. First, you’re protected by the Fates you’re asking us to damn. I could kill you here and now and suffer their wrath, or stand against them and suffer their wrath, so it seems you’re not as safe as you think you are. Besides, there are ways to extract power without death. I’ve done it before.”

The room erupted into argument, gods shouting over each other about who would get Paesha’s power once it was taken, how it would be divided, what it would mean for the realms.